I’m back at the local coffeehouse. Coming here is not quite as exciting as it was when I first got to Wisconsin but, nonetheless, still a good experience. There’s a new coffee dude who works here. He’s pretty cute and asked how my day was (which obviously qualifies him as a potential soul mate). I’ve noticed recently that whenever people ask how my day is, I always respond with “it’s cold outside” as if I have nothing more interesting to say, maybe I should also mention how I found a penny on the ground.
Since I’ve spent so much time at this place, and in coffeehouses in general, I’ve made note of the kinds of people that are usually around. There are the ones who frantically rush in and take their coffee to go, the regulars, like myself, who sit and leisurely drink their coffee, the decaf drinkers (who I will never understand), and, at last, the social coffee drinkers. Just like there are social smokers and what not there are also social coffee drinkers and, to be honest, I’m kind of jealous of them. These magical creatures have the ability to drink coffee as they please yet are not dependent on it—this is not something I can say for myself.
At the crack head coffeehouse I used to go to in Brooklyn, I was a recognizable face. One time I was ordering and the barista was like “Isn’t this your third time here today?” I nodded to both his question and to the realization that I am, in fact, a coffee addict.
Last year, when I was in college, my relationship with coffee became long lasting. I would make a pot around 7 pm and stay up for a late night study session. These nights were miserable but in order to avoid an on coming panic attack, I convinced myself that they were really fun.
However, the next day at school was always an unpleasant reminder that my nocturnal coffee drinking habits were anything but fun. And in order to alleviate sleep deprivation and make it through an entire day worth of classes, I got more coffee. My friend used to tease me that I always reeked of it when I got to class but at least I didn’t smell like spray-on tan and bleach like the rest of the girls at my school did.
My infatuation with coffee evolved my sophomore year of high school. My best friend and I would go to the bagel shop around the corner before first period. And we soon discovered that if we ordered an egg and cheese on a bagel, we’d also got a free coffee. This became a morning tradition. But overtime my small, free, coffee took on a life of its own and eventually gnawed its way through my high school wallet.
Now that I’ve shared some of my coffee roots, you can understand why I’m envious of the “social coffee drinkers.” They can enjoy both its marvelous taste but also function as a normal human being without it; some might consider them a rare breed. I admit I’m having a hard time wrapping this blog post up because all this talk about coffee is making me really want some. So on that note, I’m going to go drink some coffee right now. Who knows, maybe in time I can join the “social coffee drinkers”, and maybe my soul mate is one of them too, but right now I am going to remain a proud coffee addict.